


Mr. T Doesn't Live Here Anymore

by CaitN



Category: Psych
Genre: Community: picfor1000, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-12
Updated: 2012-03-12
Packaged: 2017-11-01 20:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaitN/pseuds/CaitN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don't mess with Gus' food, especially his cookies. Shawn should have learned the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. T Doesn't Live Here Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during Season 4, before episode 4.16 "Mr Yin Presents." My assigned photo can be found here: [cookies](http://www.flickr.com/photos/librariesrock/3822663909/)

_1987_

"Shawn, why did you steal Gus' cookies?" Henry walked into the house, Gus trailing behind him.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Shawn sat on the couch watching a commercial for Silly Putty.

Henry hit a button on the television and the screen went black. "You ate them." 

"Again, I don't know what--"

"Knock it off Shawn, you know what I'm talking about." Henry folded his arms across his chest. "The cookies that Gus' mom left on the dining room table for him."

"I bet he ate them and just forgot." Shawn nodded as if that was the only solution. The logical explanation.

Gus blurted out, "You know those are my favorite!"

"Hey, it's not my fault you ate them and you can't remember. Just get your mom to make you some more."

"It's the principal, Shawn. You don't steal. Especially from friends."

"I didn't eat them."

"Crumbs in the cuff of your pants, Shawn." 

"What?" Shawn looked down. "I could have sworn I got them all." He looked up to see his dad smirking at him. "There are no crumbs," he said with a sigh.

"No," Henry agreed. "Now I think you owe Gus an apology."

"Sorry, Gus."

"I forgive you," his friend said, then muttered, "but I'd rather have the cookies."

 

_Present Day_

 

"Was that package addressed to me?" Gus glared at his partner and tried to see around him into the waste basket.

Shawn rocked his body side to side, blocking the view of the trashcan where the wrapping had only been half wadded up. "I don't think so, I think it was to both of us." 

"Really?" Gus crossed his arms. "Because I just got off the phone with Uncle Bob and he said he'd sent a package to the office. _And_ that it should arrive today."

"So Bob's your uncle, huh?" 

"His first name is Robert, but we always… Why am I explaining this to you?"

"Because you frequently confuse me and it's in your nature?" Shawn ventured a guess to the rhetorical question.

Gus ignored him and snatched the box out of his hands. He walked over and placed the plain brown box on his desk. Wielding a pair of scissors - and possibly contemplating using them in a different way - he cut through the tape and lifted out a plastic tub.

"Cookies?" Shawn asked, reading the writing on the plastic.

"Not just any cookies," Gus replied, admiring the unexpected gift. He didn't want to open it quite yet - sometimes the anticipation was almost as good as the doing.

"Whatever."

"You're just jealous you never get care packages." 

Shawn shrugged. "I have plenty of people that care about me; it just happens that all of them live in Santa Barbara."

"What about Abigail?" 

"Okay, I'll give you that one." It was still a bit of a sore subject with Shawn, even though he tended to play it off as no big deal. 

 

"Despereaux. And your mom."

"Okay, fine." Shawn gestured to the bucket still cradled in Gus' arms, and still unopened. "Aren't you going to open it already?"

"I'm savoring the moment," Gus said defensively. 

"It's probably not even cookies."

"What are you talking about? This is a tub of Barksdale's oven baked chocolate chip cookies. The best cookies in Iowa and unavailable anywhere around here."

"Yeah, that's what you'd think. But haven't you ever gotten something that's actually wrapped in another package? Like thinking you're getting a vintage _Fall Guy_ lunch box and opening it to find they sent you the _A-Team_ instead."

"That was a let-down," Gus agreed. "But come on, the _A-Team_ kicked ass!"

Shawn dismissed his point with a shake of his head. "Murdock was crazy as a loon and B.A. couldn't fly unless they drugged him."

"Yeah, but you have to admit, Amy was hot. And Tanya. And Tia." Gus smiled and sighed.

"Dude, you watched that show way too much."

The smile disappeared off Gus' face and his attention again turned to his cookies. He sat down and moved some papers aside to set the container reverently on his desk.

After almost a minute of Gus just sitting there staring at his gift, Shawn yelled, "So open it already!"

Gus shot him a look of annoyance but reached for the lid. "Fine."

Shawn pulled up a chair and waited for the great reveal.

And waited.

And waited.

"Open it!"

"I changed my mind." Gus moved it over and picked up the papers he had just pushed aside.

"You're reading those upside down," Shawn pointed out with a smile.

Flustered, Gus turned them around. "I'm still not opening my cookies. I've decided to wait until after dinner."

"Open it."

"No."

"Just one."

"No."

"All I want is one."

"I said 'no', Shawn."

Shawn stood up and started to walk away. But it was a fake out and at the last minute he turned and grabbed for the cookies. 

Gus was faster. "I pity the fool who lays a finger on my cookies," he said in his best B.A. Baracus imitation.

"Really?" Shawn asked. "Like that's going to keep me away?"

"Excuse me?" a gruff voice said from the outer office.

Shawn turned around to see Laurence Tureaud - none other than Mister T himself - standing in their doorway.

"I'm looking for Shawn Spencer and a," he consulted a paper in his hand, "Burton Guster." He looked at them expectantly (which for him was more a scowl than anything else).

Shawn cleared his throat. "I'm Shawn Spencer and this is my partner, Sticky-Fingers LaRue. How can w--"

He had glanced at back at Gus and lost his train of thought. His friend was sitting wide-eyed and slack-jawed, cookies completely forgotten, momentarily stunned at the sight of his childhood hero (well, one of his childhood heroes).

Taking advantage of the situation, Shawn grabbed the tub of cookies, ripped off the lid and dug in.

"So how can we help you?" he asked around a mouthful of crumbs.


End file.
